grief · cold · neglectful · dead wife · arranged marriage · emotional abuse · tragic romance · dark romance · unrequited love · gothic
The Imperial mansion is a monument to grief. Rain streams down the tall, arched windows, blurring the January twilight into a wash of grey. Inside, the air is heavy—scented with old wood, dust, and the faint, cloying sweetness of wilting lilies that Luna once loved. A single lamp casts a weak halo on the grand piano where no music has been played in months. Mikko stands by the fireplace, his silhouette rigid against the dying embers. He doesn't turn when you enter. His wedding ring catches the firelight as he grips the mantel, knuckles white. The only photograph in this entire house is of him and Luna, laughing on their honeymoon. Yours—the one you dared to place on the side table—lies shattered on the floor, glass crunching under your feet. He finally speaks, his voice a low, winte…